


Burcyan: Friendship, Companionship, Close Bond

by teacup_of_doom



Series: Scenes from an Alternate Galaxy [13]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Crazy Jedi, Cute Kids, Determined Obi-Wan, Eventual Obi-Wan/Jango, Eventual Relationships, Female Obi-Wan Kenobi, First Meetings, Gen, Padawan Obi-Wan, Protective Jango Fett, Qui-Gon is in Trouble, They're kids right now, VERY eventual, Young Jango Fett, Young Obi-Wan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2018-09-16 17:03:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9281420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacup_of_doom/pseuds/teacup_of_doom
Summary: Young Jango Fett meets a young Obi-Wan Kenobi in a marketplace on Avaris Prime. The Force meddles, shenanigans ensue, and a friendship blossoms.





	1. Doslanir: Cross, Intersect - Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Here is your first look at the main pairing of the Scenes from an Alternate Galaxy series. I give you tiny!Jango and tinier!Obi-Wan. Enjoy! 
> 
> Much thanks to the lovely laughing_phoenix and the Mando'a dictionary!
> 
> -teacup

* * *

 

The first time that Jango Fett, eighteen year old leader of the True Mandalorians, met Obi-Wan Kenobi, it was because the Jedi Padawan had quite literally run into him. The marketplace he’d wandered into out of interest – it being his first time on the planet – was crowded, but not so much that Jango feared a dagger in his ribs. Especially because most people tended to avoid anyone wearing Mandalorian armour – if anyone did take an overly fond interest in Jango, he’d know it immediately.

So he was a little surprised to be knocked over by what he assumed, at first glance, was a small, ginger-haired child. She – and despite the short haircut, it was a she – had fallen backwards as well, into the dust, narrowly avoiding being trampled.

Jango sat up on his elbows, mouth open and prepared to shout at the youngster, then noticed that she had a bruise on her cheekbone, and despite the fact that she had clearly not been looking where she was going, she was looking around at the crowd warily. She turned that wary look on Jango. with eyes a colour of blue he’d never seen before.

“Ah,” she said, half bowing to him from her seated position, in a Coruscanti accent. “I do apologise. I didn’t mean to knock you over.”

Jango blinked, shut his mouth, and then replied. “Uh, don’t worry about it.” He got to his feet and reached out a hand to the kid, to help her up.

It wasn’t until she was standing in front of him, still analysing the crowd, that Jango realised – startled – that the kid was wearing a tiny version of the Jedi robes.  He did not like Jedi, not in any form, not after what they’d done on Mandalore.

And yet, when the kid turned back to him, her blue eyes on him again, Jango momentarily forgot that. There was no way that the Jedi let a kid this… fragile? Out on their own. This was – this was a baby Jedi. Had to be.  She bowed to him again. “Thank you for helping me up, and I am sorry for the accident.”

There was a shout further down the market, and the little girl twitched. “I think,” she said deliberately, “I should go now. You may want to go yourself, so that you aren’t associated with me, it may save you some trouble.”

Jango’s forehead furrowed as the girl turned away, and he looked towards where the disruptive noise was coming from – four burly men were running their way, eyes fixed on the little ginger Jedi.

Slavers. Jango knew them when he saw them. He tore his gaze back to the little Jedi, who was already trying to slip into the crowd again. He shouldn’t care – kriff, he had no love for Jedi, but…this was a child. The age his sister had been when  -

Jango moved before he’d realised he’d made up his mind. He ducked into the crowd, following the tiny Jedi, attaching himself metaphorically to her shoulder.

“Follow me!” He growled, just loud enough for her to hear. She jumped, turned around to look at him, narrowed her eyes, and then nodded. They moved forward, the noise of the slavers growing behind them.

“Left down the next alley.” Jango hissed instructions, looking behind them and trying to recall his mental map of the market. The tiny  - baby – Jedi followed his instruction without hesitation, veering a sharp left. He pulled her into the small space between two tents, and they watched as the four slavers ran by, thinking that they’d gone straight.

“That was close,” the little Jedi whispered. “And though I thank you, I am not certain that you want to be mixed up in this mess.”

“Little late now.” Jango whispered back.

“True,” came the reply. “You can let go, if you feel the need.”

Jango realised that in pulling the Jedi into their hiding spot, he’d wrapped his arms around her, tucking her close. He let go awkwardly, but then replaced his hand on her shoulder. “Have to keep track of you somehow.”

She turned around, raised an eyebrow at him, and then pointed to her hair, amused.

“Yeah, but that’s going to be a liability.” Jango said. “It’s a…noticeable colour.”

“Says the boy in Mandalorian armour,” she said, but she was grinning.  “How do we get out of here?”

“There’s four exits to the market.” Jango said, squatting so that he could draw in the dirt with a gloved finger. The Jedi crouched to join him. “Officially, anyway. There are other entrances for tradespeople, and some less regulated ways that the locals know about.”

“Which do you think we should head for?” The Jedi asked, eyes keen. “I can’t imagine that they will not have lookouts stationed at a few of those entrances.”

“I’d say either the busiest, or one of the local ones, but I’m not exactly certain where they are. You?”

“Perhaps the second-busiest,” the little Jedi said. “I’m not familiar with the local routes either,.”

“Why the second busiest?”

“Intuition.” The little Jedi said, beaming at him unconvincingly. ( _ Jedi were not supposed to be adorable, they really weren’t _ , Jango thought.) 

“Second busiest it is,” Jango said. “Let’s just hope we make it through.”

“The Force will guide us*,” the little Jedi whispered. Jango didn’t reply, because Force or no Force, he wasn’t sure it was going to help them. Still, as soon as they were sure the coast was temporarily clear, they made a break for it, Jango’s arm still on the girl’s shoulder, whispering instructions.

They had to duck in between tents again, and fifteen minutes later, they were ducking through a tea-shop and had gotten to the other side when Jango realized he couldn’t see the wisp of ginger anywhere.

For a moment, he panicked, and then wasn’t sure why. He was just helping the kid, he shouldn’t be that worr-

There was a tug on his arm. Jango looked down into the baby Jedi’s blue eyes. There was a piece of some sort of dark coloured blue cloth wrapped over the ginger, close cropped hair, and around her shoulders and neck, the brim of the cloth just over the little girl’s eyes, as if she was using it to protect her eyes from the sun. It was tucked haphazardly, but Jango would not have guessed that the kid was under it.

“Where the underside of a bantha’s testicles did you get that?!” Jango hissed. If he was slightly impressed, he wasn’t going to say so.

“Funny thing,” the baby Jedi said, winking. “The cloth just seemed to have appeared suddenly. Here.” She thrust another bolt of the same garment into his hands. “Cover your armour.”

Jango gave her an incredulous look, but draped it over his shoulders, not bothering to put it over his head. It hid the top half of his armour fairly well, not completely, but enough. “Crazy-ass baby Jedi,” he muttered. “If we get caught with these –“

“Come on,” she interrupted him. “Which way? I sense them, they’re getting closer.”

Jango put his hand on her shoulder again. “Straight three tents, and then right.” 

They made it to the third tent that Jango had indicated, and then there was a shout. Both Jango and the little Jedi saw the slavers approaching, fast, from the right turn they had been meant to take, and as one, dove left.

The only advantage that Jango and his companion had was that they were smaller, and more nimble than the slavers, who were barrelling through tents and stalls, leaving destruction in their wake – which was sure to draw the market guards. Slavers or not, the markets were a safe zone on this planet. Jango did not, under any circumstances, want to get snagged along with the slavers.

At least, Jango was certain that it was their only advantage, before he realized that objects were flying at the slaver’s heads in ways that couldn’t be possible unless the person throwing them was invisible.

Or using the Force.

“Ok,” Jango muttered grudgingly. “That’s the kind of help we needed.” If the little Jedi responded in any way, Jango was too busy to notice.

Behind the slavers, market guards in protective gear were starting to appear, their shouts for the slavers to halt distracting them momentarily. Jango used that to his advantage and dodged left, dragging the tiny Jedi with him. Three alleys later, they were in sight of one of the market’s exits – if it was the one they had originally aiming for, Jango had no idea.

Jango slowed down, threw his arm over the little Jedi’s shoulder – as if she was family - and they walked through the gates under the watchful eyes of the market guards, sweating in anticipation of being caught.

They didn’t stop walking until they were five streets away from the market, in a quiet residential courtyard. The little Jedi slumped onto a stone bench, pulling the blue cloth from her head. “Well,” she said. “That was fun.”

Jango grinned at her, amused. He hadn’t bothered to take the blue cloth from his armour – they’d probably need it again. He held out a hand. “Jango Fett.”

The little Jedi smiled at him, her eyes sparkling, shaking his hand. “Obi-Wan Kenobi. Thank you for helping me out of there.”

Jango shrugged. “Don’t mention it.” He meant that, his men would be far too amused that he’d been looking out for a little Jedi in the market. “Why were they after you, and don’t you have an older Jedi that’s supposed to keep an eye on you?” He expected the answer to be simple – slavers got big profits for Force-sensitive slaves, everyone knew that.

Instead, Obi-Wan shook her head. “My master, Qui-Gon Jinn, and I were sent to negotiate an agreement between the local government and one of the gangs here. Unfortunately, one of the…businesses with which the gang worked has taken offense to the gang’s decision to stop operations. They came for us early yesterday. My Master gave me time to get away, but they did capture him.”

Jango winced. “Got any help you can reach out to?” He meant the Jedi Order.

“I cannot go to the government, as I suspect that someone within the council is working with the slavers - which would be how they knew where we were staying - and I was forced to leave my comm behind, so unless I can send out a message another way, I’m very much afraid I am on my own for the time being.” Obi-Wan told him, patting herself down, and Jango saw the end of what was presumably a lightsaber tucked in her robes.

Jango bit his lip, thinking. He couldn’t help Obi-Wan any further, not really, not if she wanted to get a message off planet. She could steal a comm, or break into the message centre in the middle of the city, but he couldn’t take her to his ship, some of his crew would object.

“However,” Obi-Wan said, smiling back up at him. “I’ll understand if you want to leave me here, I’ve already gotten you into enough trouble.” Despite the truth of that statement, part of Jango protested at leaving the girl alone. “Considering the course of action I plan to take next, I’m at the point of suggesting it.”

“What are you going to do?” Jango asked, curious.

“I’m going to get my Master back.” Obi-Wan said simply, tucking a very short braid behind her ear.

Jango stared. Obi-Wan was tiny, couldn’t be older than her early teens, and she looked light enough that he could throw her over his shoulder and walk off with her. Yes, she was a Jedi but there was no way she could face down a bunch of slavers on her own - and there was the niggling fact that the Mandalorian felt more protective of Obi-Wan than he’d felt about anyone in years, and he hadn’t known her more than two hours. 

The words were in his mouth even before he realized it. “Crazy-ass baby Jedi,” he said almost in wonder, making Obi-Wan blink at him, and Jango glowered. “If you think you’re even remotely going against that scum by yourself, you have another think coming.”

Obi-Wan looked vaguely amused, and cocked her head to the side. “You don’t have to do this. In fact, it may be better for you not to, they may come after you in the future for helping me.”

Jango rolled his shoulders. “Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he said. “I’m helping you get your…Master, back.”

Obi-Wan frowned, then put a hand over her face and chuckled. “We may both regret this,” she said, and then sheepishly. “I won’t turn down the help, if you still want to.”

Jango gave Obi-Wan a crooked grin. “Crazy-ass baby Jedi.”

“I’m almost thirteen!**”

“My point stands.” Jango said, the crooked grin growing wider. Kriff, he liked this kid.  (If it weren’t for the fact that she was clearly devoted to her place among the Jedi, he might have considered finding a Mandalorian to adopt her.)

Obi-Wan rolled her eyes, something that Jango sensed he would be treated to more than once. “Here is what I had planned.”  

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Qui-Gon in captivity, Jango introduces Obi-Wan to the True Mandalorians

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always, to Phoenix to enabling and editing. She waited a while for the next bit of this bit of Scenes from an Alternate Galaxy. 
> 
> As always, find me on my tumblr. I go by timesandteacups now. Enjoy the chapter!
> 
> -teacup

* * *

 

Qui-Gon could reach the Force, but due to the drugs in his system - which he was having more trouble than he should have had in burning off - his control was a little bit...questionable. Only years of practice were keeping the Jedi master from wholesale panicking. They'd been drugging his food as well as giving it to him intravenously, and as a result Qui-Gon had little measure of how long exactly he'd been in captivity. 

He was only certain of one thing in particular - the slaver gang did not yet have Obi-Wan.

They would have taunted him with the fact - and with Obi-Wan herself, more than likely, if they had, (Qui-Gon's stomach clenched - unless it was more vomiting - at the thought of his Padawan in these people's hands.) At the very least, they might have beaten him less. 

But they did not know where Obi-Wan was, and perhaps they believed Qui-Gon to be so drugged up that he could not tell which way was up (accurately, at least), because they had forgotten that Qui-Gon could still  _ hear _ .

As a result, Qui-Gon knew who the slavers were connected with, the names of several leaders of the gang, and of at least one corrupt local official. Not, of course, that the information did him any good in his cell. Or basement. Whatever and wherever in the city he was. 

While trying to burn through the drugs in his system, Qui-Gon's thoughts frequently strayed to his newest padawan. He had not been kind to her, before Bandomeer, and while he had (somewhat) been trying to make it up to the small girl-child who had grown on him very quickly indeed, he did not yet know her very well at all. He’d thought he’d had a full assessment of her character and history, from Qui-Gon’s initial rejection of Obi-Wan due to her feud with Bruck Chun, to her courage when they had both been faced with a Darkened Xanatos (the less said about that episode the better), even her quick wit and continued shyness when it came to Qui-Gon. 

But his initial opinion of her had been slowly wiped out by the insights and skill the little one had displayed since their first mission together. But he did not yet know what Obi-Wan would do when on her own. 

Qui-Gon’s preference would have been to find out in some sort of controlled - environment test, but it was clearly as the Force willed*.

His comlink, the one coded specifically to reach the Temple in case of an emergency, had been confiscated when Qui-Gon had been captured. Even if she managed to get ahold of it, Obi-Wan did not know the codes to activate that particular emergency beacon yet. With a (much) older padawan, a rescue attempt might have been possible, but with a brand new, nearly thirteen year old Padawan, who was without resources and who did not know where she stood in her teacher’s eyes**? Then again, Qui-Gon thought miserably, Obi-Wan so clearly wanted his approval that she very well might try a rescue regardless***. Qui-Gon shifted on the dusty floor with a groan at the thought. 

He  _ had _ to get out of here.

* * *

 

 

Despite Obi-Wan’s eagerness to go rescue Qui-Gon Jinn immediately (with a slightly less crazy plan than Jango would have thought), they needed supplies, and it was getting far too late in the day to mount a proper assault on the slaver’s hideout. Obi-Wan clearly needed a safe space to spend the night, and Jango was not, under any circumstances, leaving the Crazy Baby Jedi on her own again. 

So, more nervous than a teenager holding the title of Mandalore should be, Jango led Obi-Wan out of the the city and towards the ship that he and the rest of the True Mandalorian faction were travelling in. It was highly unlikely that the slavers would look for Obi-Wan there, and doubly unlikely that they would try and mess with Mandalorians. 

Even though he felt relief that Obi-Wan would be safe, (possibly more than he should for someone he had just met) Jango himself would probably never live down bringing her to the ship. 

By the time that they actually got to the ship - nearly an hour and a half’s paranoid walking from the city center - whoever had been on lookout had apparently notified the rest of the crew that Jango was bringing someone back with him. They had spread themselves out on the sand outside of the ship’s gangway, some lounging, a small huddle playing card games, but they were obviously waiting for him and Obi-Wan. Jango groaned internally, but the look Obi-Wan shot him was full of quiet amusement.

They stopped within a few yards of the company. “Y’all look like you're enjoying yourselves.” Jango said gruffly.

Jango’s second in command, Bev****, straightened up from where he was crouching by another Mando’a, who was appearing to do weapons maintenance while not actually doing any maintenance. Jango gave the man points for caution. Bev grinned at Jango. “Well, we got everything on our list for today done, and I figured we could all use some downtime.”

Jango nodded. “Fair enough.” He smirked. “Anybody pick up some grub?”

Bev crossed his arms. “Maybe.” He joked. “I’m sure we can come up with something.” His gaze, like the rest of Jango’s men, came to rest on Obi-Wan. “Who's your friend?”  

Obi-Wan, who Jango had explicitly told not to bow and immediately give away that she was a Jedi, smiled widely, and waved. “Hello!”

Jango fought the urge to put his face in his hand. “This is Obi-Wan. She is small, mildly insane, and needs somewhere to stay for the night.”

There were snickers from various directions. Obi-Wan pushed his arm slightly. “That was rude,” she told him disapprovingly. 

Jango rolled his eyes at her. “I’m not wrong.”

She pushed him again, harder. Jango didn't even shift a little, and Obi-Wan would probably have tried again, but one of Jango’s people stood up. Ca’tra had three younglings back on Mandalore, Jango remembered. The older woman gestured to Obi-Wan. “Come with me adiik,” she said gently, gesturing to Obi-Wan. “You can bunk with me, and we’ll get you some food.”

Obi-Wan looked to Jango, as if for confirmation, and only wandered off when Jango pushed her forward slightly. 

When Obi-Wan was gone into the bowels of the ship, chatting away at Cat’tra, Bev raised an eyebrow at Jango, arms crossed. “A Jetii?”

“A really  _ small _ Jetii,” Jango countered, propping himself on a plastisteel crate. “And there were slavers after her.”

When Bev’s other eyebrow rose, Jango sighed and told his intrigued company the whole story. By the time he finished most of them were breaking into the laughter that they’d been holding back since he’d appeared with a kid in tow. 

“She wanted to go after the slavers gang and rescue the older Jetii herself!” Jango said over the noise. “It was crazy!”

“Rude.” Said a smaller voice said next to him, but when he turned to Obi-Wan - who was carrying a plate for him too - she was smiling. Cat’ra guided the small Jedi over to a group, who all tracked the littlest Jedi they had likely ever seen as she sat down with a thump in the sand. She began eating with gusto, which made Jango wonder just how long the little tyke had been running before he’d found her. The blue cloth that Obi-Wan had whisked off some stall somewhere was now wrapped around the girl’s waist like a belt, bringing some color to the sand-colored clothing she wore. Without it, and her hair, Jango was fairly certain that she’d blend into the surroundings with ease. 

“How old’r you adiik?” One of Jango’s oldest True Mandalorians - Somar -  asked (Jango didn’t know how old the man was exactly, but he was ostensibly older than Jango himself, which was, honestly, not hard). 

Obi-Wan swallowed a noodle and cocked her head to the side. “What’s an adiik?” 

Those closest chuckled. “A youngling,” Somar explained, eyes shining. “Someone between a toddler and thirteen years of age.” 

“Oh.” Obi-Wan said with a slow nod. “I’ll be thirteen in a couple of weeks, so I guess that does mean me.”

Those of the True Mandalorians with children froze for a moment, including Somar. Bev raised another eyebrow at Jango, who shrugged. Having been a beneficiary of Mandalorian adoption himself, Jango was very much aware of the age cutoff. Somar looked thoughtful for a moment - too thoughtful by half - and then the expression was gone. If Obi-Wan had noticed anything, distracted as she was by munching noodles as fast as she could load them on her eating utensils, she wasn’t saying.

Jango took the moment of silence and sat in the sand near Obi-Wan, within arm’s reach, but enough that they both had their own space. He wasn’t that attached. (He wasn’t!)

“Surprised the Jetii let you outside your Temple.” He grunted. “I would’a thought they’d want to keep all that crazy in one place.”

There was scattered laughter at Obi-Wan’s reaction, which was to stick her tongue out and then keep eating. “Master Jinn gets a lot of diplomatic work.” Obi-Wan replied. “This mission wasn’t  _ supposed  _ to turn out like this. It was supposed to be a quiet negotiation, so I can get a feel for what he does, and then we’d go home.” 

Ca’tra snorted. “Nothing is ever  _ supposed _ to happen.” She said to a round of knowing laughter. “But it always does.”

About an hour after she’d finished her meal Obi-Wan starting yawning, and once she visibly started to sag sideways - even with the True Mandalorian’s singing (or bad caterwauling, it depended on what you thought was music) folk songs, Cat’ra led Obi-Wan to bed. As soon as watches were settled on for the night, some of the others started to head to bed as well. 

Before Jango could head for bed himself, Somar pulled Jango a little distance away to talk to him. “Think the plan she outlined with you is sound?”

“Is any plan sound?” Jango replied. They both knew the question was rhetorical. Practically speaking, no plan was sound once put into motion. Nine times out of ten chaos set in and something went awry. Jango sighed. “Yeah, with a little bit of tweaking, it should be. We can go over it in the morning, but, it’s alright. I don’t know if baby Jedi are raised learning tactics, or if she learned on her own, but she’s pretty good at it.”

Somar nodded, accepting Jango’s judgement, but he was clearly wavering about something else. 

“What?” Jango asked. If it was about him bringing Obi-Wan to them - 

“If we can’t get Jinn back for Obi-Wan, and we can’t get that Temple of theirs to pick her up,” Somar told him. “I think I’m going to adopt your crazy baby Jetti.”

Jango’s eyebrows rose. Somar smiled. “I have four daughters already, Jango. Lights of my life. My partner and I always wanted a big family and I don’t think my girls would mind having a younger sibling in the least. They’d probably try to spoil her rotten.” 

“She might still want to go to back to the Jettise.” Jango reminded Somar. 

“I know.” Somar said, making a face. “I will respect that if she does,” he said. “But given the trouble she’s in, I’m going to draw the line at her making it back on her own.”

That, at least, was something Jango could agree on.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Phoenix thinks the Force has a very strange sense of humor. She's got a point. Phoenix also thinks Teacup has a very strange sense of humor and suspects there's a correlation in there somewhere. Teacup thinks that Phoenix would not be wrong about that.   
> ** Little does Qui-Gon know!  
> *** He’s not wrong.  
> ****Spike, essentially, his name is Spike.

**Author's Note:**

> *”I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me.” - Chirrut Îmwe, Rogue One  
> ** This is set almost immediately after Bandomeer, and before Ben Kenobi returns to Life. In the timeline, this is just regular thirteen year old Obi-Wan Kenobi. Phoenix adds: I maintain that this being a teenage Obi-Wan without all the insanity Ben Kenobi got up to is rather frightening, because it speaks to her insanity going to the bone.


End file.
